LOUIS AGASSIZ.

ILLUSTRATIVE EXTRACTS ONHIS METHOD OF INSTRUCTION

WITH AN INTRODUCTORY NOTE

BY

LANE COOPER

PROFESSOR OF THE ENGLISHLANGUAGE AND LITERATUREIN CORNELL UNIVERSITY.

The beauty of his better self lives on In

minds he touched with fire, in many aneye He trained to Truth's exact severity;He was a Teacher: why be grieved forhim Whose living word still stimulatesthe air In endless file shall lovingscholars come The glow of histransmitted touch to share.

Lowell, Agassiz.

PREFACE

If it be asked why a teacher of Englishshould be moved to issue this book onAgassiz, my reply might be: 'Read theIntroductory Note'-for the answer is

there. But doubtless the primary reasonis that I have been taught, and I try toteach others, after a method in essenceidentical with that employed by thegreat naturalist. And I might go on toshow in some detail that a doctoralinvestigation in the humanities, whenthe subject is well chosen, serves thesame purpose in the education of astudent of language and literature asthe independent, intensive study of aliving or a fossil animal, whenprescribed by Agassiz to a beginner innatural science. But there is no need toelaborate the point. Of those who arelikely to examine the book, somealready know the underlying truthinvolved, others will grasp it when it is

first presented to them (and for thesemy slight and pleasant labors aredesigned), and the rest will find astumbling-block and foolishness savefor the entertainment to be had in thereading of biography.

I have naturally kept in mind the needsof my own students, past and present,yet I believe these pages may be usefulto students of natural science as well asto those who concern themselves withthe humanities. We live in an age ofnarrow specialization at all events inAmerica. Agassiz was a specialist, butnot a 'narrow' one. His example shouldtherefore be salutary to those persons,on the one hand, who think that a man

can have general culture withoutknowing some one thing from thebottom up, and, on the other, to thosewho immerse themselves and theirpupils blindly in special investigation,without thought of the prima philosophiathat gives life and meaning to allparticular knowledge. There can be nodoubt that science and scholarship inthis country are suffering from a lackof sympathy and contact between thedevotees of the several branches, andfor want of definite efforts to bridgethe gaps between various disciplineswherever this is possible. It may notoften be possible until men of sciencegenerally again take up the study ofPlato and Aristotle, or at least busy

themselves, as did Agassiz, with somecomprehensive modern philosopherlike Schelling. But it should not be veryhard for those who are engaged in thebiological sciences and those who aregiven to literary pursuits to realize thatthey are alike interested in themanifestations of one and the samething, the principle of life. In Agassizhimself the vitality of his studies andthe vitality of the man are easilyidentified.

In conclusion I must thank thepublishers, Houghton MifflinCompany, for the use of selectionsfrom the copyright books of Mrs.Agassiz and Professor Shaler; these and

all other obligations are, I trust,indicated in the proper places byfootnotes. I owe a special debt ofgratitude to Professor Burt G. Wilderfor his interest and help throughout.

LANE COOPER

CORNELL UNIVERSITY,

April 7, 1917.

CONTENTS

I. INTRODUCTORY NOTE

II. AGASSIZ AT NEUCHATEL

III. AGASSIZ AT HARVARD

IV. HOW AGASSIZ TAUGHTPROFESSOR SHALER

V. HOW AGASSIZ TAUGHTPROFESSOR VERRILL

VI. HOW AGASSIZ TAUGHTPROFESSOR WILDER

VII. How AGASSIZ TAUGHTPROFESSOR SCUDDER

VIII. THE DEATH OF AGASSIZHIS PERSONALITY

IX. OBITER DICTA BY AGASSIZ

X. PASSAGES FOR COMPARISONWITH THE METHOD OF AGASSIZ

I

INTRODUCTORY NOTE

When the question was put to Agassiz,'What do you regard as your greatestwork ' he replied: 'I have taught men toobserve.' And in the preamble to hiswill he described himself in threewords as 'Louis Agassiz, Teacher.'

We have more than one reason to beinterested in the form of instructionemployed by so eminent a scientist asAgassiz. In the first place, it is much tobe desired that those who concernthemselves with pedagogy should giverelatively less heed to the way in whichsubjects, abstractly considered, ought tobe taught, and should pay moreattention than I fear has been paid tothe way in which great and successfulteachers actually have taught theirpupils. As in other fields of humanendeavor, so in teaching: there is aportion of the art that cannot be takenover by one person from another, butthere is a portion, and a larger one than

at first sight may appear, that can be sotaken over, and can be almost directlyutilized. Nor is the possible utility ofimitation diminished, but ratherincreased, when we contemplate themethod of a teacher like Agassiz,whose mental operations had thesimplicity of genius, and in whosehabits of instruction the fundamentalsof a right procedure become veryobvious.

Yet there is a second main reason forour interest. Within recent years wehave witnessed an extraordinarydevelopment in certain studies, which,though superficially different fromthose pursued by Agassiz, have an

underlying bond of unity with them,but which are generally carried onwithout reference to principlesgoverning the investigation of everyorganism and all organic life. I have inmind, particularly, the spread of literaryand linguistic study in America duringthe last few decades, and the lack of acommon standard of judgment amongthose who engage in such study. Mostpersons do not, in fact, discern theclose, though not obvious, relationbetween investigation in biology orzoology and the observation andcomparison of those organic formswhich we call forms of literature andworks of art. Yet the notion that apoem or a speech should possess the

organic structure, as it were, of a livingcreature is basic in the thought of thegreat literary critics of all time. SoAristotle, a zoologist as well as asystematic student of literature,compares the essential structure of atragedy to the form of an animal. Andso Plato, in the Phaedrus, makes Socratessay: 'At any rate, you will allow thatevery discourse ought to be a livingcreature, having a body of its own, anda head and feet; there should be amiddle, beginning, and end, adapted toone another and to the whole.' It wouldseem that to Plato an oration representsan organic idea in the mind of thehuman creator, the orator, just as aliving animal represents a constructive

idea in the mind of God. Now ithappens that Agassiz, considered in hisphilosophical relations, was a Platonist,since he clearly believed that the formsof nature expressed the eternal ideas ofa divine intelligence.

Accordingly, his method of teachingcannot fail to be illuminating to theteacher of literature or to the teacher oflanguage, either, since each language asa whole, and also the component partsof language, words, for instance, areliving and growing forms, and must bestudied as organisms. We have perhapsheard too much of 'laboratory'methods in the teaching of English andthe like; but none of us has heard too

much about the fundamentaloperations of observation andcomparison in the study of livingforms, or of the way in which greatteachers have developed the originalpowers of the student. It is simply thefact that, reduced to the simplest terms,there is but a single method ofinvestigating the objects of naturalscience and the productions of humangenius. We study a poem, the work ofman's art, in the same way that Agassizmade Shaler study a fish, the work ofGod's art; the object in either case is todiscover the relation between form orstructure and function or essentialeffect. It was no chance utterance ofAgassiz when he said that a year or two

of natural history, studied as heunderstood it, would give the best kindof training for any other sort of mentalwork.

The following passages will illustrateAgassiz's ideals and practice inteaching, the emphasis being laid uponhis dealings with special students. Afew biographical details are introducedin order to round out our conceptionof the personality of the teacherhimself. Toward the close, certain ofhis opinions are given in his ownwords.

I would call special attention to anextract from Boeckh's Encyclopadie, and

another from the Symposium of Plato,on pp. 69-74, and to the similaritybetween the method of study thereenjoined upon the student of thehumanities, or indeed of all art andnature, and the method imposed byAgassiz upon the would-beentomologist who was compelled firstof all to observe a fish. In reformingthe mind it is well to begin bycontemplating some structure we neverhave seen before, concerning which wehave no, or the fewest possible,preconceptions.

II

AGASSIZ AT NEUCHATEL

[Footnote: From E. C. Agassiz, LouisAgassiz, his Life and Correspondence, pp.206 ff. Boston, Houghton MifflinCompany, 1885.]

[In the autumn of the year 1832]Agassiz assumed the duties of hisprofessorship at Neuchatel. Hisopening lecture, upon the relationsbetween the different branches ofnatural history and the then prevailingtendencies of all the sciences, was givenon the 12th of November ... at theHotel de Ville. Judged by theimpression made upon the listeners as

recorded at the time, this introductorydiscourse must have been characterizedby the same broad spirit ofgeneralization which marked Agassiz'slater teaching. Facts in his hands fellinto their orderly relation as parts of aconnected whole, and were neverpresented merely as special or isolatedphenomena. From the beginning hissuccess as an instructor wasundoubted. He had, indeed, nowentered upon the occupation whichwas to be from youth to old age thedelight of his life. Teaching was apassion with him, and his power overhis pupils might be measured by hisown enthusiasm. He was intellectually,as well as socially, a democrat, in the

best sense. He delighted to scatterbroadcast the highest results ofthought and research, and to adaptthem even to the youngest and mostuninformed minds. In his laterAmerican travels he would talk ofglacial phenomena to the driver of acountry stagecoach among themountains, or to some workman,splitting rock at the road-side, with asmuch earnestness as if he had beendiscussing problems with a brothergeologist; he would take the commonfisherman into his scientific confidence,telling him the intimate secrets of fish-structure or fish-embryology, till theman in his turn became enthusiastic,and began to pour out information

from the stores of his own rough anduntaught habits of observation.Agassiz's general faith in thesusceptibility of the popularintelligence, however untrained, to thehighest truths of nature, wascontagious, and he created ordeveloped that in which he believed....

Beside his classes at the gymnasium,Agassiz collected about him, byinvitation, a small audience of friendsand neighbors, to whom he lecturedduring the winter on botany, onzoology, on the philosophy of nature.The instruction was of the mostfamiliar and informal character, andwas continued in later years for his own

children and the children of his friends.In the latter case the subjects werechiefly geology and geography inconnection with botany, and infavorable weather the lessons wereusually given in the open air.... Fromsome high ground affording a widepanoramic view Agassiz would explainto them the formation of lakes, islands,rivers, springs, water -sheds, hills, andvalleys....

When it was impossible to give thelessons out of doors, the children weregathered around a large table, whereeach one had before him or her thespecimens of the day, sometimes stonesand fossils, sometimes flowers, fruits,

or dried plants. To each child insuccession was explained separatelywhat had first been told to allcollectively.... The children took theirown share in the instruction, and werethemselves made to point out anddescribe that which had just beenexplained to them. They took hometheir collections, and as a preparationfor the next lesson were often calledupon to classify and describe someunusual specimen by their ownunaided efforts.

III

AGASSIZ AT HARVARD

[Footnote: From E. C. Agassiz, LouisAgassiz, his Life and Correspondence, pp.564 ff. Boston, Houghton MifflinCompany, 1885.]

On his return to Cambridge at the endof September [1859], Agassiz foundthe Museum building well advanced. Itwas completed in the course of thenext year, and the dedication took placeon the 13th of November, 1860. Thetransfer of the collections to their newand safe abode was made as rapidly aspossible, and the work of developingthe institution under these morefavorable conditions moved steadily on.

The lecture-rooms were at onceopened, not only to students, but toother persons not connected with theUniversity. Especially welcome wereteachers of schools, for whomadmittance was free. It was a greatpleasure to Agassiz thus to renew andstrengthen his connection with theteachers of the State, with whom, fromthe time of his arrival in this country,he had held most cordial relations,attending the Teachers' Institutes,visiting the normal schools, andassociating himself actively, as far as hecould, with the interests of publiceducation in Massachusetts. From thistime forward his college lectures wereopen to women as well as to men. He

had great sympathy with the desire ofwomen for larger and more variousfields of study and work, and a certainnumber of women have always beenemployed as assistants at the Museum.

The story of the next three years wasone of unceasing but seeminglyuneventful work. The daylight hoursfrom nine or ten o'clock in the morningwere spent, with the exception of thehour devoted to the school, at theMuseum, not only in personalresearches and in lecturing, but inorganizing, distributing, andsuperintending the work of thelaboratories, all of which was directedby him. Passing from bench to bench,

from table to table, with a suggestionhere, a kindly but scrutinizing glancethere, he made his sympathetic presencefelt by the whole establishment. Noman ever exercised a more genialpersonal influence over his studentsand assistants.

His initiatory steps in teaching specialstudents of natural history were not alittle discouraging. Observation andcomparison being in his opinion theintellectual tools most indispensable tothe naturalist, his first lesson was one inlooking. He gave no assistance; he simplyleft his student with the specimen,telling him to use his eyes diligently,and report upon what he saw. He

returned from time to time to inquireafter the beginner's progress, but henever asked him a leading question,never pointed out a single feature ofthe structure, never prompted aninference or a conclusion. This processlasted sometimes for days, the professorrequiring the pupil not only todistinguish the various parts of theanimal, but to detect also the relationof these details to more general typicalfeatures. His students still retainamusing reminiscences of their despairwhen thus confronted with their singlespecimen; no aid to be had fromoutside until they had wrung from itthe secret of its structure. But all ofthem have recognized the fact that this

one lesson in looking, which forcedthem to such careful scrutiny of theobject before them, influenced all theirsubsequent habits of observation,whatever field they might choose fortheir special subject of study....

But if Agassiz, in order to developindependence and accuracy ofobservation, threw his students on theirown resources at first, there was never amore generous teacher in the end thanhe. All his intellectual capital wasthrown open to his pupils. His originalmaterial, his unpublishedinvestigations, his most preciousspecimens, his drawings andillustrations were at their command.

This liberality led in itself to aserviceable training, for he taught themto use with respect the valuable, oftenunique, objects entrusted to their care.Out of the intellectual good-fellowshipwhich he established and encouraged inthe laboratory grew the warmestrelations between his students andhimself. Many of them were deeplyattached to him, and he was extremelydependent upon their sympathy andaffection. By some among them he willnever be forgotten. He is still theirteacher and their friend, scarcely moreabsent from their work now than whenthe glow of his enthusiasm made itselffelt in his personal presence.

IV

HOW AGASSIZ TAUGHTPROFESSOR SHALER

[Footnote: From The Autobiography ofNathaniel Southgate Shaler, pp. 93-100.Boston, Houghton Mifflin Company,1907.]

At the time of my secession from thehumanities, Agassiz was in Europe; hedid not return, I think, until theautumn of 1859. I had, however,picked up several acquaintances amonghis pupils, learned what they were

about, and gained some notion of hismethods. After about a month hereturned, and I had my first contactwith the man who was to have the mostinfluence on my life of any of theteachers to whom I am indebted. I shallnever forget even the lesser incidents ofthis meeting, for this great master by hispresence gave an importance to hissurroundings, so that the room whereyou met him, and the furniture, stayedwith the memory of him. When I firstmet Louis Agassiz, he was still in theprime of his admirable manhood;though he was then fifty-two years old,and had passed his constructive period,he still had the look of a young man.His face was the most genial and

engaging that I had ever seen, and hismanner captivated me altogether. But asI had been among men who had a freeswing, and for a year among peoplewho seemed to me to be cold andsuper-rational, hungry as I doubtlesswas for human sympathy, Agassiz'swelcome went to my heart I was atonce his captive. It has been my goodchance to see many men of engagingpresence and ways, but I have neverknown his equal.

As the personal quality of Agassiz wasthe greatest of his powers, and as mylife was greatly influenced by myimmediate and enduring affection forhim, I am tempted to set forth some

incidents which show that my swiftdevotion to my new-found master wasnot due to the accidents of thesituation, or to any boyish fancy. I willcontent myself with one of thosestories, which will of itself show howeasily he captivated men, even those ofthe ruder sort. Some years after wecame together, when indeed I wasformally his assistant, I believe it was in1866, he became much interested in thetask of comparing the skeletons ofthoroughbred horses with those ofcommon stock. I had at his requesttried, but without success, to obtain thebones of certain famous stallions frommy acquaintances among the racingmen in Kentucky. Early one morning

there was a fire, supposed to beincendiary, in the stables in the BeaconPark track, a mile from the College, inwhich a number of horses had beenkilled, and many badly scorched. I hadjust returned from the place, where Ihad left a mob of irate owners andjockeys in a violent state of mind,intent on finding some one to hang. Ihad seen the chance of getting avaluable lot of stallions for theMuseum, but it was evident that thetime was most inopportune forsuggesting such a disposition of theremains. Had I done so, the resultswould have been, to say the least,unpleasant.

As I came away from the profane lot ofhorsemen gathered about the rums oftheir fortunes or their hopes, I metAgassiz almost running to seize thechance of specimens. I told him tocome back with me, that we must waituntil the mob had spent its rage; but hekept on. I told him further that herisked spoiling his good chance, andfinally that he would have his headpunched; but he trotted on. I went withhim, in the hope that I might protecthim from the consequences of hiscuriosity. When we reached the spot,there came about a marvel; in amoment he had all those raging men athis command. He went at once to workwith the horses which had been hurt,

but were savable. His intense sympathywith the creatures, his knowledge ofthe remedies to be applied, hisimmediate appropriation of the wholesituation, of which he was at once themaster, made those rude folk at oncehis friends. Nobody asked who he was,for the good reason that he was heartand soul of them. When the task ofhelping was done, then Agassizskilfully came to the point of hisbusiness the skeletons and this sodexterously and sympathetically, thatthe men were, it seemed, ready to turnover the living as well as the deadbeasts for his service. I have seen a lotof human doing, much of it criticallyas actor or near observer, but this was

in many ways the greatest. The supremeart of it was in the use of a perfectlyspontaneous and most actuallysympathetic motive to gain an end.With others, this state of mind wouldlead to affectation; with him, it in nowise diminished the quality of theemotion. He could measure the valueof the motive, but do it withoutlessening its moral import.

As my account of Agassiz's qualityshould rest upon my experiences withhim, I shall now go on to tell how andto what effect he trained me. In that daythere were no written examinations onany subjects to which candidates forthe Lawrence Scientific School had to

pass. The professors in charge of theseveral departments questioned thecandidates, and determined their fitnessto pursue the course of study theydesired to undertake. Few or none whohad any semblance of an educationwere denied admission to Agassiz'slaboratory. At that time, the instructorshad, in addition to their meagre salarieshis was then $2,500 per annum, theregular fees paid in by the studentsunder his charge. So I was promptlyassured that I was admitted. Be it said,however, that he did give me aneffective oral examination, which, as hetold me, was intended to show whetherI could expect to go forward to adegree at the end of four years of

study. On this matter of the degree hewas obdurate, refusing to recommendsome who had been with him for manyyears, and had succeeded in their specialwork, giving as reason for his denialthat they were 'too ignorant.'

The examination Agassiz gave me wasdirected first to find that I knewenough Latin and Greek to make useof those languages; that I could patter alittle of them evidently pleased him. Hedidn't care for those detestable rules forscanning. Then came German andFrench, which were also approved: Icould read both, and spoke the formerfairly well. He did not probe me in myweakest place, mathematics, for the

good reason that, badly as I was off inthat subject, he was in a worse plight.Then asking me concerning my reading,he found that I had read the Essay onClassification, and had noted in it theinfluence of Schelling's views. Most ofhis questioning related to this field, andthe more than fair beginning of ourrelations then made was due to the factthat I had some enlargement on thatside. So, too, he was pleased to find thatI had managed a lot of Latin, Greek,and German poetry, and had beentrained with the sword. He completedthis inquiry by requiring that I bring myfoils and masks for a bout. In this testhe did not fare well, for, though notuntrained, he evidently knew more of

the Schlager than of the rapier. He washeavy-handed, and lacked finesse. This,with my previous experience, led me tothe conclusion that I had struck upon akind of tutor in Cambridge not knownin Kentucky.

While Agassiz questioned me carefullyas to what I had read and what I hadseen, he seemed in this preliminarygoing over in no wise concerned tofind what I knew about fossils, rocks,animals, and plants; he put aside theofferings of my scanty lore. Thisoffended me a bit, as I recall, for thereason that I thought I knew, and for aself-taught lad really did know, a gooddeal about such matters, especially as to

the habits of insects, particularlyspiders. It seemed hard to be denied thechance to make my parade; but Iafterward saw what this meant that hedid not intend to let me begin my tasksby posing as a naturalist. The beginningwas indeed quite different, and, as willbe seen, in a manner that quicklyevaporated my conceit. It was made andcontinued in a way I will now recount.

Agassiz's laboratory was then in arather small two-storied building,looking much like a square dwelling-house, which stood where the CollegeGymnasium now stands.... Agassiz hadrecently moved into it from a shed onthe marsh near Brighton bridge, the

original tenants, the engineers, havingcome to riches in the shape of the brickstructure now known as the LawrenceBuilding. In this primitiveestablishment Agassiz's laboratory, asdistinguished from the storeroomswhere the collections were crammed,occupied one room about thirty feetlong and fifteen feet wide what is nowthe west room on the lower floor ofthe edifice. In this place, already packed,I had assigned to me a small pine tablewith a rusty tin pan upon it....

When I sat me down before my tin pan,Agassiz brought me a small fish,placing it before me with the ratherstern requirement that I should study it,

but should on no account talk to anyone concerning it, nor read anythingrelating to fishes, until I had hispermission so to do. To my inquiry,'What shall I do ' he said in effect: 'Findout what you can without damaging thespecimen; when I think that you havedone the work I will question you.' Inthe course of an hour I thought I hadcompassed that fish; it was rather anunsavory object, giving forth the stenchof old alcohol, then loathsome to me,though in time I came to like it. Manyof the scales were loosened so that theyfell off. It appeared to me to be a casefor a summary report, which I wasanxious to make and get on to the nextstage of the business. But Agassiz,

though always within call, concernedhimself no further with me that day,nor the next, nor for a week. At first,this neglect was distressing; but I sawthat it was a game, for he was, as Idiscerned rather than saw, covertlywatching me. So I set my wits to workupon the thing, and in the course of ahundred hours or so thought I haddone much a hundred times as much asseemed possible at the start. I gotinterested in finding out how the scaleswent in series, their shape, the form andplacement of the teeth, etc. Finally, Ifelt full of the subject, and probablyexpressed it in my bearing; as for wordsabout it then, there were none from mymaster except his cheery 'Good

morning.' At length, on the seventh day,came the question, 'Well ' and mydisgorge of learning to him as he saton the edge of my table puffing hiscigar. At the end of the hour's telling,he swung off and away, saying: 'That isnot right.' Here I began to think that,after all, perhaps the rules for scanningLatin verse were not the worst inflictionin the world. Moreover, it was clear thathe was playing a game with me to findif I were capable of doing hard,continuous work without the supportof a teacher, and this stimulated me tolabor. I went at the task anew, discardedmy first notes, and in another week often hours a day labor I had resultswhich astonished myself and satisfied

him. Still there was no trace of praise inwords or manner. He signified that itwould do by placing before me about ahalf a peck of bones, telling me to seewhat I could make of them, with nofurther directions to guide me. I soonfound that they were the skeletons ofhalf a dozen fishes of different species;the jaws told me so much at a firstinspection. The task evidently was to fitthe separate bones together in theirproper order. Two months or morewent to this task with no other helpthan an occasional looking over mygrouping with the stereotyped remark:'That is not right.' Finally, the task wasdone, and I was again set uponalcoholic specimens this time a

remarkable lot of specimensrepresenting, perhaps, twenty species ofthe side -swimmers or Pleuronectidae.

I shall never forget the sense of powerin dealing with things which I felt inbeginning the more extended work on agroup of animals. I had learned the artof comparing objects, which is thebasis of the naturalist's work. At thisstage I was allowed to read, and todiscuss my work with others about me.I did both eagerly, and acquired aconsiderable knowledge of theliterature of ichthyology, becomingespecially interested in the system ofclassification, then most imperfect. Itried to follow Agassiz's scheme of

division into the order of ctenoids andganoids, with the result that I foundone of my species of side-swimmershad cycloid scales on one side andctenoid on the other. This not onlyshocked my sense of the value ofclassification in a way that permitted ofno full recovery of my original respectfor the process, but for a time shookmy confidence in my master'sknowledge. At the same time I had amalicious pleasure in exhibiting my'find' to him, expecting to repay in partthe humiliation which he had evidentlytried to inflict on my conceit. To myquestion as to how the nondescriptshould be classified he said: 'My boy,there are now two of us who know

that.'

This incident of the fish made an endof my novitiate. After that, with asuddenness of transition whichpuzzled me, Agassiz became verycommunicative; we passed indeed intothe relation of friends of like age andpurpose, and he actually consulted meas to what I should like to take up as afield of study. Finding that I wished todevote myself to geology, he set me towork on the Brachiopoda as the bestgroup of fossils to serve as data indetermining the Palaeozoic horizons.So far as his rather limited knowledgeof the matter went, he guided me in thefield about Cambridge, in my reading,

and to acquaintances of his who wereconcerned with earth structures. I camethus to know Charles T. Jackson, JulesMarcou, and, later, the brothers Rogers,Henry and James. At the same time Ikept up the study of zoology,undertaking to make myself acquaintedwith living organic forms as a basis fora knowledge of fossils.

V

HOW AGASSIZ TAUGHTPROFESSOR VERRILL

[Footnote: From a private letter from

Professor Addison Emery Verrill toLane Cooper. The extract is printedwith the consent of Professor Verrill.]

In regard to the methods of instructionof Agassiz I must say that so far as Isaw and experienced he had no regularor fixed method, except that his planwas to make young students depend onnatural objects rather than onstatements in books. To that end hetreated each one of his new studentsdifferently, according to the amount ofknowledge and experience that thestudent had previously acquired, andoften in line with what the student haddone before. Not infrequently youngmen came to him who were utterly

destitute of any knowledge or ability tostudy natural science, or zoology inparticular, but had an idea that it wouldbe a 'soft snap,' as the boys say. In suchcases he often did give them a lot ofmixed stuff to mull over, to see whatthey could do, and also to discouragethose that seemed unfit. Sometimes hewas mistaken, of course, and thestudent would persevere and stay onand sometimes turned out well later. Infact, his treatment was highly andessentially individualistic.

In my own case, he questioned meclosely as to what I had previouslydone and learned. He found I hadmade collections of birds, mammals,

plants, etc., and had mounted andidentified them for several years, and inthat way was not a beginner exactly. Iremember that before I had been withhim six months he told me I knewmore zoology than most students didwhen they graduated. Therefore mycase was not like some others. He hadan idea, of course, that though I hadcollected and mounted birds, and knewtheir names and habits, I probablyknew little about their anatomy. At anyrate the first thing he did was to giveme a badly mutilated old loon, fromold alcohol, telling me to prepare theskeleton. This I did so well and soquickly that he expressed regret that hehad not given me some better bird with

unbroken bones. He gave me next ablue heron, but it being spring, I 'wentcollecting' in the vicinity, following myusual inclination, before breakfast andafter laboratory hours, and brought in anumber of incubated birds'-eggs.When Agassiz came into the laboratory,I was extracting and preserving theembryos, being interested inembryology. He at once exclaimed thathe was delighted, and told me to putaside the skeletons and go right on withcollecting and preparing embryo birds,and making drawings, etc. This I did allthat season, obtaining about 2,000embryos, mostly of sea birds, for hesent me to Grand Manan Island, etc.,for that purpose. Before the end of the

first year he gave me entire charge ofthe birds and mammals in the Museum,as well as the coral collection, whichwas large even then.

In the case of Hyatt, who went therejust before I did, I think he was keptworking over a lot of mixed fishskeletons, more or less broken, to 'seewhat he could make of them.' A littlelater he put Hyatt at work on theUnionidae, studying the anatomy aswell as the shells. Within two years heput him on the Ammonites, a bigcollection having been received fromEurope at that time. Hyatt, however,had never done anything in zoology orbotany before he went to Agassiz and

he found it hard to get a beginning, andso lost time. I mention these cases toshow how different his methods werein different cases.

VI

HOW AGASSIZ TAUGHTPROFESSOR WILDER

[Footnote: From an article by ProfessorBurt G. Wilder, of Cornell University,in The Harvard Graduates' Magazine,June, 1907. The extract is taken from areprint with slight changes by theauthor, and is given with slight

omissions by the present writer.]

The phrase adopted as the title of thisarticle ['Louis Agassiz, Teacher'] beginshis simple will, Agassiz was likewise aninvestigator, a director of research, andthe founder of a great museum. Hereally was four men in one. Withoutdetracting from the extent and value ofthe three other elements of his intenseand composite American life from hisfirst course of lectures before theLowell Institute in 1846 to theinauguration of the Anderson SummerSchool of Natural History at PenikeseIsland, July 8, 1873, and his addressbefore the Massachusetts State Boardof Agriculture, twelve days before his

untimely death on December 14, 1873,Agassiz was pre-eminently a teacher. Hetaught his assistants; he taught theteachers in the public schools; hetaught college students; he taught thepublic, and the common people heardhim gladly. His unparalleledachievements as an instructor are thuschronicled by his wife:

'A teacher in the widest sense, hesought and found his pupils in everyclass. But in America for the first timedid he come into contact with thegeneral mass of the people on thiscommon ground, and it influencedstrongly his final resolve to remain inthis country. Indeed the secret of his

greatest power was to be found in thesympathetic, human side of hischaracter. Out of his broad humanitygrew the genial personal influence bywhich he awakened the enthusiasm ofhis audiences for unwonted themes,inspired his students to disinterestedservices like his own, delighted childrenin the school-room, and won thecordial interest, as well as the co-operation in the higher aims of science,of all classes, whether rich or poor.'

As a general statement the foregoingcould not be improved. But theinvitation to prepare this articlecontained a suggestion of particularitywith which it is possible for me to

comply.[Footnote: Not only have Ipreserved all the letters from Agassiz,the first dated Sept. 4, 1866, and the lastNov. 25, 1873, but also my diaries inwhich are recorded all significantincidents and conversations from myfirst introduction in 1856 to the lastinterview, Sept. 5, 1873. [Note byProfessor Wilder.]] The courses givenby Agassiz on zoology and geologywere attended by me during the threeyears (1859-62) of my pupilage withJeffries Wyman, and the two years(1866-68) in which I was the assistantof Agassiz himself. Naturally, and alsofor special reasons, the deepestimpression was made by the first andthe last of these courses. With the

former the charm of novelty intensifiedthe great, indeed indescribable, charmof the speaker. No topic was to me soimportant as the general problem ofanimal life, and no expositor couldcompare with Agassiz. As an outlet formy enthusiasm each discourse wasrepeated, to the best of my ability, forthe benefit of my companion, JamesHerbert Morse, '63, on the daily four-mile walk between Cambridge and ourBrookline home. So sure was I that allthe statements of Agassiz were correctand all his conclusions sound, that anydoubts or criticisms upon the part ofmy acute and unprejudiced friendshocked me as a reprehensiblecompound of heresy and lese-majesty.

The last course that I heard fromAgassiz in Cambridge began onOctober 23, 1867, and closed onJanuary 11, 1868. It was memorable forhim and for me. At the outset heannounced that some progress hadbeen made in the University toward theadoption of an elective system for thestudents, and that he proposed to applythe principle to his own instruction,and should devote the entire course oftwenty-one lectures to the Selachians(sharks and rays), a group in which hehad been deeply interested for manyyears, and upon which he was thenpreparing a volume. This limitation to afavorite topic inspired him to unusual

energy and eloquence. My notes arequite full, but I now wish the lectureshad been reported verbatim. Thiscourse was signalized also by twospecial innovations, viz.: the exhibitionof living fish, and the free use ofmuseum specimens. That, so far aspossible, all biologic instruction shouldbe objective was with Agassiz aneducational dogma, and upon severalnotable occasions its validity had beendemonstrated under very unfavorableconditions. Yet, during the five years ofmy attendance upon his lectures, theywere seldom illustrated otherwise thanby his ready and graphic blackboarddrawings. The simple fact was that theintervals between his lectures were so

crowded with multifarious, pressing,and never-ending demands upon histime and strength that he could seldomdetermine upon the precise subjectlong enough in advance for him, or anyone else, to bring together the desirablespecimens or even charts. The secondlecture of the course already mentionedis characterized in my diary as'splendid,' and as 'for the first timeillustrated with many specimens.' Atone of the later lectures, after speakingabout fifteen minutes, he invited hishearers to examine living salmonembryos under his direction at onetable, and living shark embryos undermine at another.

Like those of Wyman, the coursesgiven by Agassiz were Senior electives. Inever heard of any examination uponthem; nor is it easy to imagine Agassizas preparing a syllabus, or formulatingor correcting an examination-paper. Hispersonality and the invariableattendance of teachers and other adultsprecluded the necessity of disciplinarymeasures. But his attitude towardstudent misconduct was clearly shownin an incident recorded by meelsewhere.[Footnote: 'Agassiz atPenikese,' American Naturalist, March,1898, p. 194. [Note by ProfessorWilder.]] The method pursued byAgassiz with his laboratory studentshas been described by Scudder.

[Footnote: See below, p. 40.] AlthoughI was to prepare specimens at hispersonal expense, a somewhat similartest was applied. He placed before me adozen young 'acanths' (dog-fishsharks), telling me to find out what Icould about them. After three days hegave me other specimens, saying: 'Whenyou go back to the little sharks you willknow more about them than if youkept on with them now' meaning, Isuppose, that I should then havegained a better perspective.

Although, as I recall upon severaloccasions, Agassiz could express hisviews delightfully and impressively to asingle auditor, his eminently social

nature and his lifelong habit rendered iteasier for him to address a group ofinterested listeners. The followingincident does not seem to have beenrecorded in my diary, but it is distinctlyremembered. During the publication ofthe Journey in Brazil, a French translationwas made by M. Felix Vogeli. With thisthe publishers desired to incorporate achapter giving the latest views ofAgassiz upon classification andevolution. In vain was he besought towrite it. He hated writing, and was toobusy. At last, in desperation, M. Vogelicame to the Museum with Mrs. Agassiz,and together they persuaded theProfessor to dictate the required matterin the form of a lecture. For this,

however, an audience wasindispensable. The exigency wasexplained to the Museum staff; weassembled in the lecture-room, and thediscourse began. To the dismay ofsome of us it proved to be in French,but we tried to look as if wecomprehended it all.

Agassiz handled all specimens with thegreatest care, and naturally had littlepatience with clumsiness; the followingincident illustrates both his kindly spiritand his self-restraint. At one of thelectures he had handed down forinspection a very rare and costly fossil,from the coal-measures, I think;including the matrix, it had about the

size and shape of the palm of thehand. He cautioned us not to drop it.When it had reached about the middleof the audience a crash was heard. Theprecious thing had been dropped by anew and somewhat uncouth assistantwhom we will call Dr. X. He hastilygathered up the pieces and rushed outof the room. For a few secondsAgassiz stood as if himself petrified;then, without even an 'Excuse me,' hevanished by the same door. Presently hereturned, flushed, gazing ruefully at thefragments in his hand, covered withmucilage or liquid glue. After a pause,during which those who knew him notawaited an explosive denunciation ofgaucherie, Agassiz said quietly: 'In

Natural History it is not enough toknow how to study specimens; it is alsonecessary to know how to handle them'and then proceeded with his lecture.

His helpful attitude toward prospectiveteachers was exhibited in the followingincidents. After my appointment toCornell University in October, 1867, hearranged for me to give a course of six'University Lectures,' and warned me toprepare for them carefully, because heshould give me a 'raking down.' Heattended them all (at what interruptionof his own work I realize better now),and discussed them and my methodsvery frankly with me. Omitting thecommendations, the following

comments may be useful to otherprofessorial tyros: 1. The main questionor thesis should be stated clearly andconcisely at the outset, withoutcompelling the hearer to perform all themental operations that have led thespeaker to his own standpoint. 2. Indealing with the history of a subject,the value of each successivecontribution should be estimated in thelight of the knowledge at the period,not of that at the present time.

VII

HOW AGASSIZ TAUGHT

PROFESSOR SCUDDER

[Footnote: 'In the Laboratory withAgassiz,' by Samuel H. Scudder, fromEvery Saturday (April 4, 1874) 16, 369-370.]

It was more than fifteen years ago[from 1874] that I entered thelaboratory of Professor Agassiz, andtold him I had enrolled my name in theScientific School as a student of naturalhistory. He asked me a few questionsabout my object in coming, myantecedents generally, the mode inwhich I afterwards proposed to use theknowledge I might acquire, and, finally,whether I wished to study any special

branch. To the latter I replied that,while I wished to be well grounded inall departments of zoology, I purposedto devote myself specially to insects.

'When do you wish to begin ' he asked.

'Now,' I replied.

This seemed to please him, and with anenergetic 'Very well!' he reached from ashelf a huge jar of specimens in yellowalcohol.

'Take this fish,' said he, 'and look at it;we call it a haemulon; by and by I willask what you have seen.'

With that he left me, but in a momentreturned with explicit instructions as tothe care of the object entrusted to me.

'No man is fit to be a naturalist,' saidhe, 'who does not know how to takecare of specimens.'

I was to keep the fish before me in a tintray, and occasionally moisten thesurface with alcohol from the jar,always taking care to replace thestopper tightly. Those were not the daysof ground-glass stoppers and elegantlyshaped exhibition jars; all the oldstudents will recall the huge necklessglass bottles with their leaky, wax -besmeared corks, half eaten by insects,

and begrimed with cellar dust.Entomology was a cleaner science thanichthyology, but the example of theProfessor, who had unhesitatinglyplunged to the bottom of the jar toproduce the fish, was infectious; andthough this alcohol had 'a very ancientand fishlike smell,' I really dared notshow any aversion within these sacredprecincts, and treated the alcohol asthough it were pure water. Still I wasconscious of a passing feeling ofdisappointment, for gazing at a fish didnot commend itself to an ardententomologist. My friends at home, too,were annoyed, when they discoveredthat no amount of eau-de-Colognewould drown the perfume which

haunted me like a shadow.

In ten minutes I had seen all that couldbe seen in that fish, and started insearch of the Professor who had,however, left the Museum; and when Ireturned, after lingering over some ofthe odd animals stored in the upperapartment, my specimen was dry allover. I dashed the fluid over the fish asif to resuscitate the beast from afainting -fit, and looked with anxietyfor a return of the normal sloppyappearance. This little excitement over,nothing was to be done but to returnto a steadfast gaze at my mutecompanion. Half an hour passed anhour another hour; the fish began to

look loathsome. I turned it over andaround; looked it in the face ghastly,from behind, beneath, above, sideways,at a three-quarters' view just as ghastly. Iwas in despair; at an early hour Iconcluded that lunch was necessary; so,with infinite relief, the fish was carefullyreplaced in the jar, and for an hour Iwas free.

On my return, I learned that ProfessorAgassiz had been at the Museum, buthad gone, and would not return forseveral hours. My fellow-students weretoo busy to be disturbed by continuedconversation. Slowly I drew forth thathideous fish, and with a feeling ofdesperation again looked at it. I might

not use a magnifying-glass; instrumentsof all kinds were interdicted. My twohands, my two eyes, and the fish: itseemed a most limited field. I pushedmy finger down its throat to feel howsharp the teeth were. I began to countthe scales in the different rows, until Iwas convinced that that was nonsense.At last a happy thought struck me Iwould draw the fish; and now withsurprise I began to discover newfeatures in the creature. Just then theProfessor returned.

'That is right,' said he; 'a pencil is oneof the best of eyes. I am glad to notice,too, that you keep your specimen wet,and your bottle corked.'

With these encouraging words, headded:

'Well, what is it like '

He listened attentively to my briefrehearsal of the structure of partswhose names were still unknown tome: the fringed gill-arches and movableoperculum; the pores of the head,fleshy lips and lidless eyes; the lateralline, the spinous fins and forked tail;the compressed and arched body. WhenI had finished, he waited as if expectingmore, and then, with an air ofdisappointment:

'You have not looked very carefully;why,' he continued more earnestly,' youhaven't even seen one of the mostconspicuous features of the animal,which is as plainly before your eyes asthe fish itself; look again, look again!'and he left me to my misery.

I was piqued; I was mortified. Stillmore of that wretched fish! But now Iset myself to my task with a will, anddiscovered one new thing after another,until I saw how just the Professor'scriticism had been. The afternoonpassed quickly; and when, toward itsclose, the Professor inquired:

'Do you see it yet '

'No,' I replied, 'I am certain I do not,but I see how little I saw before.'

'That is next best,' said he, earnestly,'but I won't hear you now; put awayyour fish and go home; perhaps youwill be ready with a better answer in themorning. I will examine you before youlook at the fish.'

This was disconcerting. Not only mustI think of my fish all night, studying,without the object before me, what thisunknown but most visible featuremight be; but also, without reviewingmy new discoveries, I must give anexact account of them the next day. I

had a bad memory; so I walked homeby Charles River in a distracted state,with my two perplexities.

The cordial greeting from the Professorthe next morning was reassuring; herewas a man who seemed to be quite asanxious as I that I should see formyself what he saw.

'Do you perhaps mean,' I asked, 'thatthe fish has symmetrical sides withpaired organs '

His thoroughly pleased 'Of course! ofcourse!' repaid the wakeful hours ofthe previous night. After he haddiscoursed most happily and

enthusiastically as he always did-uponthe importance of this point, Iventured to ask what I should do next.

'Oh, look at your fish!' he said, and leftme again to my own devices. In a littlemore than an hour he returned, andheard my new catalogue.

'That is good, that is good!' he repeated;'but that is not all; go on;' and so forthree long days he placed that fishbefore my eyes, forbidding me to lookat anything else, or to use any artificialaid. 'Look, look, look,' was his repeatedinjunction.

This was the best entomological lesson

I ever had a lesson whose influence hasextended to the details of everysubsequent study; a legacy theProfessor has left to me, as he has left itto many others, of inestimable value,which we could not buy, with which wecannot part.

A year afterward, some of us wereamusing ourselves with chalkingoutlandish beasts on the Museumblackboard. We drew prancingstarfishes; frogs in mortal combat;hydra-headed worms; stately crawfishes,standing on their tails, bearing aloftumbrellas; and grotesque fishes withgaping mouths and staring eyes. TheProfessor came in shortly after, and was

as amused as any at our experiments.He looked at the fishes.

'Haemulons, every one of them,' hesaid; 'Mr. drew them.'

True; and to this day, if I attempt a fish,I can draw nothing but haemulons.

The fourth day, a second fish of thesame group was placed beside the first,and I was bidden to point out theresemblances and differences betweenthe two; another and another followed,until the entire family lay before me,and a whole legion of jars covered thetable and surrounding shelves; the odorhad become a pleasant perfume; and

even now, the sight of an old, six-inch,worm-eaten cork brings fragrantmemories.

The whole group of haemulons wasthus brought in review; and, whetherengaged upon the dissection of theinternal organs, the preparation andexamination of the bony frame-work,or the description of the various parts,Agassiz's training in the method ofobserving facts and their orderlyarrangement was ever accompanied bythe urgent exhortation not to becontent with them.

'Facts are stupid things,' he would say,'until brought into connection with

some general law.'

At the end of eight months, it wasalmost with reluctance that I left thesefriends and turned to insects; but whatI had gained by this outside experiencehas been of greater value than years oflater investigation in my favoritegroups.

[Footnote: Professor Edward S. Morsewrites: 'As I remember Mr. Scudder'sarticle, ... he has stated clearly themethod of Agassiz's teaching simply tolet the student study intimately oneobject at a time. Day after day he wouldcome to your table and ask you whatyou had learned, and thus keep you at

it for a week. My first object put beforeme was a common clam, Mya arenaria.']

VIII

THE DEATH OF AGASSIZ HISPERSONALITY

[Footnote: The materials for this sketchare drawn from several sources chieflythe Life by Marcou (which I have usedwith some caution) and the Life by Mrs.Agassiz. I had wished to preserve thewords of Marcou throughout (withjudicious omissions), but this wish wasdefeated by certain persons who, for

reasons unknown to me, have thepower to prevent the use of adequatequotations from him. I have followedhim where I had no other guide, andno ground for suspecting him of bias.The composition, and to some extentthe interpretation of the facts, are myown.]

In later years the robust constitutionand herculean frame of Agassizshowed the effects of his extraordinaryand multifarious labors, for it must beconfessed that he was not careful of hisbodily welfare. In the year 1869 hesuffered a temporary breakdown of avery threatening sort, and for monthswas in seclusion, forbidden by his

medical advisers even to think. His ownwise efforts, and a quiet spring passedin the village of Deerfield, Connecticut,brought about his recovery, so thatthree years of activity were yet to bevouchsafed him. But the strain of hislectures, of his correspondence, of hislabors at and for the Museum, wasperilous. On the second of December,1873, he gave a lecture, his last, on 'TheStructural Growth of DomesticAnimals,' before the MassachusettsBoard of Agriculture at Fitchburg. Onthe third he dined with friends; on thefifth he was present at a familygathering and smoked cigars, defyingthe orders of his physician. But the endwas not far off. He spoke of a dimness

of sight; he complained of feeling'strangely asleep.' On the morning ofthe sixth he went as usual to theMuseum, but with a sense of greatweariness he shortly returned to hisroom, where he lay down, never todepart from it alive. The disease was aparalysis of the organs of respiration,beginning with the larynx. He had everycare from his friends Dr. Brown-Sequard, who immediately came fromNew York, and Dr. Morrill Wyman; andthe last few days of his life were passed,not in great suffering, with his lovingfamily around him. Nothing, however,could arrest the progress of the malady.

Agassiz, it is said, had been afraid of

softening of the brain, and of a longand painful illness like that whichpreceded the death of his friendProfessor Bache; it had been his hopethat he might rather go quickly. Yet itwas not easy for him to think of dying,when his imagination teemed withprojects, and when the two mainvisions of his life were on the point ofbeing fully accomplished, in the greatMuseum and the Anderson School ofNatural History on the island ofPenikese. Stricken though he was, heclung to life, nor did he give up allhope of recovery until the last day. Stillthere was a change of demeanor, forthe aims of his career as a scientist werenow less obtrusive in his mind than

thoughts of his family. And with thearrival of Dr. Brown -Sequard heresumed the language of his youth, sothat his last words were uttered inFrench. In the closing hours, when atlength all hope was abandoned, he wasmore than once heard to say: 'Tout estfini.' On the eighth day, when deathitself was approaching, his family andfriends among these, Pourtaleswithdrew to an adjoining room,keeping watch over the patient throughthe open door. While Pourtales wasstanding there in his turn, not longafter ten o'clock at night, Agassiz liftedhimself up in bed, and said withemphasis: 'Le jeu est fini.' Then, sinkingback, he passed away.

'The play is done. Plaudite.' For Agassizlife was a game, full of motion,crowded with incident. He could notunderstand the complaint of thosewho found time hanging heavily upontheir hands, and who sought ways ofkilling it. He, who had 'no time formaking money,' would gladly haveborrowed an extra life or two for studyand teaching. From the outset he hadunwavering confidence in himself. Hewould be 'the first naturalist of histime, a good citizen, a good son,beloved of those who knew him.' Hewas not to follow others; he would leadin his own path, which should be theright path, and others should follow

him.

Agassiz was somewhat above theaverage in height. His body was wellformed, his shoulders broad andsquare, his figure powerful, firmly setupon rather small feet that served himwell in walking and climbing. With aquick, elastic step, he was an excellentpedestrian, and quite at home in themountains. As a boy he becameproficient in swimming and in themanagement of boats. To bodily fearhe was a stranger. His hands were largeand shapely, and very skilful. Never afinished draughtsman, he was none theless expert in representing, with swift,sure strokes, the essential structure of

the object he wished to recall orexplain. He was deft, too, with thedissecting-knife and the microscope,and with the geologist's hammer. Hisneck (the weak part, as his fatal illnessshowed) was rather short; his head wasfine and large. In later years his hair, ofa chestnut color, deserted his brow, buthe wore it full at the sides and back,and this, with the side-whiskers of theday, tended to conceal his ears. Thehead itself was admirable, the foreheadhigh and broad, the chin shapely, thecountenance frank and open. Themouth was wide, the lips full andsmiling, the expression as a wholealtogether amiable and intelligent. Hisaquiline nose, with well-developed

nostrils, sharply set off by the obliquelines on either side, helped to give himan air of sagacity. But it was themagnificent, fascinating eyes, young,kindly, and searching, that above allgave life to that animated countenance.To those eyes nothing wascommonplace. [Footnote: CompareClara Conant Gilson, 'Agassiz atCambridge,' in Frank Leslie's PopularMonthly, December, 1891: 'He was aman of fine figure and strikingappearance, not too much of theembonpoint, not too tall, but just tallenough to constitute a finely developedphysique. His head was grand, ofperfect intellectual shape, andcommanded your admiration as you

gazed. He was but slightly bald, his hairwas of a beautiful brown, soft and fine,and fell lovingly over the collar of hiscoat. His face was of well-roundedcontour, with a large, expressive mouth,and features indicative of greatcharacter and decision. His eyes werethe feature of his face, par excellence.They were of a beautiful bright brown,full of tenderness, of meaning andearnestness a liquid brown eye, thatwould moisten with tears of emotionas thoughts of his Creator camerushing to mind, while he traced Hisfootsteps in the sciences he studied. Hiseyes mirrored his soul. I think therewas never but one pair of eyes such asProfessor Louis Agassiz's.']

Agassiz spoke French with a slightdrawl characteristic of the section ofSwitzerland in which he was born.When he came to America in 1846, herapidly acquired a command ofEnglish, and he eventually wrote andspoke the language with great facility,though his speech never ceased tobetray his foreign origin. [Footnote: SeeClara Conant Gilson, in the article justcited: He had a few striking peculiaritiesof pronunciation, one or two of whichcling to me with great pertinacity evennow. One, in particular, is fresh in mymemory. For example, the wordsrespiratory and perspiratory he wouldaccent on the third syllable rat; and,

bless me, if to this day I don't have tothink twice before I am sure which isright! This shows what indelibleimpressions his words left upon hispupils.]

With his superabundant physical,mental, and emotional energy, he was anatural orator; he was fond of anaudience, and gratified by applause. Noone ever possessed a greater talent formaking natural science popular; evenwhen his discourse became highlytechnical, his auditors hung upon hiswords. His method of exposition wasvery clear and simple. He studiouslyavoided the error of dragging thelistener through all the processes by

which the speaker has arrived at aparticular truth, and quickly came tothe point. In lecturing, his personalmagnetism counted for much; hereadily communicated his enthusiasmto others.

He was easily moved to tears or tolaughter. In his earlier life he wasseldom angry, or seldom showed it, butotherwise made no attempt to hide hisfeelings, being a perfect child of nature.Later he became less demonstrative,save when he was angry. In the lasttwenty years of his life he notinfrequently lost his temper, though hewould not utterly forget what he wassaying; and, however heated the

discussion might become, he neverceased to be a gentleman. Neitherindecency nor aught approachingthereto ever issued from his lips. As ayouth in Switzerland, during his life asa student, and even when he was ateacher at Neuchatel, he was fond ofsinging, and he liked to yodel after thefashion of the Swiss and Tyrolesemountaineers, but he gave this up whenhe came to America.

Here his recreations were mostly social.He was the friend of Longfellow,Lowell, and Whittier; he was the friendof laborers and fishermen. In societyhe liked to encounter men of wealthand influence, for he had by nature,

and also learned from Alexander vonHumboldt, some of the arts of thecourtier. 'It would be difficult,' says Dr.Charles D. Walcott, [Footnote:Smithsonian Miscellaneous Collections 50.217 (1908).] 'to measure his influencein the way of causing men of politicaland commercial power to realize thatthe support of scientific research, andthe diffusion of knowledge therebygained, depend largely on them.' Inother natural scientists he was prone todiscover too much self-satisfaction, andtoo much personal curiosity, againstwhich he hardly knew how to protecthimself. But with the group of youngerscientists he himself developed, thoughnow and then one or another grew

mutinous, he was, during most of thetime, on the best of terms. His ownearly schooling in the classics gave hima relish for scholars, and he was pleasedwith the company of historians andlawyers. For military men he did notcare, but he liked naval officers and sea-captains. He paid little attention tomatters of dress, certainly as regards hisown person. He was gratified by themarks of distinction conferred uponhim at home and abroad, but took littlesubsequent thought of the ribbons,badges, and diplomas, keeping them,but not very carefully, and nevermaking a parade of them.

Eloquent as a lecturer, he was also

brilliant and persuasive in conversation,being, in appearance at least, quiteunreserved, and open in his attempt tocapture the good will of his auditor.However, if there was no covertartifice, there was at all events the nativeshrewdness of the Swiss peasant toreckon with, and doubtless the subtletyof genius which will not, or cannot,always reveal itself in full. In his lateryears, accordingly, though his winningmanners and his desire that you shouldcompletely display your thought to himmight lead you to suppose him utterlyopen with you, you might in the enddiscover that you had not fathomed hissoul, that there was that in him whichcould not be taken captive, and that

there might be a silent invinciblerejection on his part of somethingwithin you which was foreign to him.

In Agassiz the theoretical and thepractical life were well balanced. Hewas both a visionary and a man capableof bringing his visions to pass. Nophilosophical conception was toogeneral for him, and no detail ofobservation or inference too small. Nofact could appear too slight for hisintense and comprehensive scrutiny,and his memory for minuteresemblances and differences was vast;yet the enduring quality of his workarose from his sense of order, and fromthe soundness and rigor of his

principles. He possessed not onlyphysical, but intellectual and moralcourage. In the face of hardship ordifficulty he was undaunted, everenergetic at the moment, ever hopingfor better times. His power of workingwas enormous, for he made virtually nofalse motions, but proceeded silently,swiftly, with no apparent effort, and forlong periods without interruption.

Much has been said by his friends ofthe depth and sincerity of hissentiments in point of religion. But hehad little sympathy with clergymen, orwith the definite forms in which thereligious experience of man hasexpressed itself though these forms are

in their essence and development notunlike the natural forms which he soreverently studied. One who knew himwell affirms that in early manhoodAgassiz, if not precisely a materialist,was at all events a sceptic; but his laterstudies, with mature reflection, led himto believe in a Divine Creator. Theexternal universe became to him thelanguage in which the Divine Beingconveys his ideas to man, and naturalhistory the discipline by which meninterpret that language. Thus he says, inthe Essay on Classification: 'To me itappears indisputable that this order andarrangement of our studies are basedupon the natural, primitive relations ofanimal life those systems, to which we

have given the names of the greatleaders of our science who firstproposed them, being in truth buttranslations into human language ofthe thoughts of the Creator. And ifthis is indeed so, do we not find in thisadaptability of the human intellect tothe facts of creation, by which webecome instinctively, and, as I have said,unconsciously, the translators of thethoughts of God, the most conclusiveproof of our affinity with the Divinemind And is not this intellectual andspiritual connection with the Almightyworthy of our deepest consideration Ifthere is any truth in the belief that manis made in the image of God, it issurely not amiss for the philosopher to

endeavor, by the study of his ownmental operations, to approximate theworkings of the Divine Reason,learning from the nature of his ownmind better to understand the InfiniteIntellect from which it is derived. Sucha suggestion may, at first sight, appearirreverent. But who is the truly humbleHe who, penetrating into the secrets ofcreation, arranges them under aformula, which he proudly calls hisscientific system or he who in the samepursuit recognizes his glorious affinitywith the Creator, and in deepestgratitude for so sublime a birthrightstrives to be the faithful interpreter ofthat Divine Intellect with whom he ispermitted, nay, with whom he is

intended, according to the laws of hisbeing, to enter into communion[Footnote: Essay on Classification (1859),pp. 9-10.] Herein we may discern thesecret of his power as a teacher.

'Agassiz's influence on methods ofteaching in our community,' saidProfessor James, 'was prompt anddecisive all the more that it struckpeople's imagination by its very excess.The good old way of committingprinted abstractions to memory neverseems to have received such a shock asit encountered at his hands. There isprobably no public school teacher now[1896] in New England who will nottell you how Agassiz used to lock a

student up in a room full of turtle-shells, or lobster-shells, or oyster-shells,without a book or a word to help him,and not let him out till he haddiscovered all the truths which theobjects contained. Some found thetruths after weeks and months oflonely sorrow; others never foundthem. Those who found them werealready made into naturalists therebythe failures were blotted from the bookof honor and of life. "Go to nature;take the facts into your own hands;look, and see for yourself!" these werethe maxims which Agassiz preachedwherever he went, and their effect uponpedagogy was electric.... While on theThayer expedition [to Brazil, in 1865], I

remember that I often put questions tohim about the facts of our new tropicalhabitat, but I doubt if he ever answeredone of these questions of mineoutright. He always said: "There, yousee you have a definite problem. Goand look, and find the answer foryourself."' [Footnote: William James,Louis Agassiz, Words Spoken ... at theReception of the American Society ofNaturalists ... [Dec. 30, 1896]. Pp. 9, 10.Cambridge, 1897.]

IX

OBITER DICTA BY AGASSIZ

[Footnote: The first nine of theseutterances were taken down by Dr.David Stair Jordan at Penikese, in thesummer of 1873, from Agassiz's talksto teachers; see Popular Science Monthly40. 726-727, and Holder, Louis Agassiz,his Life and Works, 1893, pp. 173-176.The next five come from the articleentitled 'Louis Agassiz, Teacher,' byProfessor Burt G. Wilder, in TheHarvard Graduate's Magazine, June, 1907,and the last three from Agassiz'sposthumous article, "Evolution andPermanence of Type," in the AtlanticMonthly, Jan., 1874 (vol. 33).]

Never try to teach what you yourself

do not know, and know well. If yourschool board insists on your teachinganything and everything, decline firmlyto do it. It is an imposition alike onpupils and teacher to teach that whichhe does not know. Those teachers whoare strong enough should squarelyrefuse to do such work. This much-needed reform is already beginning inour colleges, and I hope it willcontinue. It is a relic of mediaevaltimes, this idea of professingeverything. When teachers begin todecline work which they cannot dowell, improvements begin to come in.If one will be a successful teacher, hemust firmly refuse work which hecannot do successfully.

It is a false idea to suppose thateverybody is competent to learn or toteach everything. Would our greatartists have succeeded equally well inGreek or calculus A smattering ofeverything is worth little. It is a fallacyto suppose that an encyclopaedicknowledge is desirable. The mind ismade strong, not through muchlearning, but by the thoroughpossession of something.

Lay aside all conceit. Learn to read thebook of nature for yourself. Thosewho have succeeded best have followedfor years some slim thread which hasonce in a while broadened out and

disclosed some treasure worth a life-long search.

A man cannot be a professor ofzoology on one day, and of chemistryon the next, and do good work in both.As in a concert all are musicians oneplays one instrument, and one another,but none all in perfection.

You cannot do without one specialty;you must have some base-line tomeasure the work and attainments ofothers. For a general view of thesubject, study the history of thesciences. Broad knowledge of all naturehas been the possession of nonaturalist except Humboldt, and

general relations constituted hisspecialty.

Select such subjects that your pupilscannot walk without seeing them. Trainyour pupils to be observers, and havethem provided with the specimensabout which you speak. If you can findnothing better, take a house-fly or acricket, and let each hold a specimenand examine it as you talk.

In 1847 I gave an address at Newton,Massachusetts, before a Teachers'Institute conducted by Horace Mann.My subject was grasshoppers. I passedaround a large jar of these insects, andmade every teacher take one and hold it

while I was speaking. If any onedropped the insect, I stopped till hepicked it up. This was at that time agreat innovation, and excited muchlaughter and derision. There can be notrue progress in the teaching of naturalscience until such methods becomegeneral.

There is no part of the country where,in the summer, you cannot get asufficient supply of the best specimens.Teach your children to bring them inthemselves. Take your text from thebrooks, not from the book -sellers. It isbetter to have a few forms well knownthan to teach a little about manyhundred species. Better a dozen

specimens thoroughly studied as theresult of the first year's work, than tohave two thousand dollars' worth ofshells and corals bought from acuriosity -shop. The dozen animalswould be your own.

The study of nature is an intercoursewith the highest mind. You shouldnever trifle with nature. At the lowesther works are the works of the highestpowers the highest something, inwhatever way we may look at it.

It is much more important for anaturalist to understand the structureof a few animals than to command thewhole field of scientific nomenclature.

Methods may determine the result.

The only true scientific system must beone in which the thought, theintellectual structure, rises out of, and isbased upon, facts.

He is lost, as an observer, who believesthat he can, with impunity, affirm thatfor which he can adduce no evidence.

Have the courage to say: 'I do notknow.'

Since the ability of combining facts is amuch rarer gift than that of discerningthem, many students lost sight of the

unity of structural design in themultiplicity of structural detail.[Footnote: Atlantic Monthly 33. 93.]

It cannot be too soon understood thatscience is one, and that whether weinvestigate language, philosophy,theology, history, or physics, we aredealing with the same problem,culminating in the knowledge ofourselves. Speech is known only inconnection with the organs of man,thought in connection with his brain,religion as the expression of hisaspirations, history as the record of hisdeeds, and physical sciences as the lawsunder which he lives. [Footnote:Atlantic Monthly 33. 95.]

The most advanced Darwinians seemreluctant to acknowledge theintervention of an intellectual power inthe diversity which obtains in nature,under the plea that such an admissionimplies distinct creative acts for everyspecies. What of it, if it were true Havethose who object to repeated acts ofcreation ever considered that noprogress can be made in knowledgewithout repeated acts of thinking Andwhat are thoughts but specific acts ofthe mind Why should it then beunscientific to infer that the facts ofnature are the result of a similarprocess, since there is no evidence ofany other cause The world has arisen in

some way or other. How it originated isthe great question, and Darwin's theory,like all other attempts to explain theorigin of life, is thus far merelyconjectural. I believe he has not evenmade the best conjecture possible inthe present state of our knowledge.

The more I look at the great complexof the animal world, the more sure do Ifeel that we have not yet reached itshidden meaning, and the more do Iregret that the young and ardent spiritsof our day give themselves tospeculation rather than to close andaccurate investigation. [Footnote:Atlantic Monthly 33. 101.]

X

PASSAGES FOR COMPARISONWITH THE METHOD OF AGASSIZ

BOECKH ON THE STUDY OFHISTORY AND LITERATURE

[Footnote: August Boeckh; Encyclopadieund Methodobgie der PhilologischenWissenschaften, pp. 46-47.]

The person who first seeks to acquire ageneral survey of a science, and thengradually to descend to details, willnever attain to sound and exact

knowledge, but will for ever dissipatehis energies, and, knowing many things,will yet know nothing. In his lectureson the Method of Academical Study,Schelling remarks with great justicethat, in history, to begin with a surveyof the entire past is in the highestdegree useless and injurious, since itgives one mere compartments forknowledge, without anything to fillthem. In history, his advice is, firststudy one period in detail, and fromthis broaden out in all directions. Forthe study of language and literature(which corresponds with history in itsmost general sense) a similar procedureis the only right one. Everything inscience is related; although science

itself is endless, yet the whole system ispervaded with sympathies andcorrespondences. Let the student placehimself where he will so long as heselects something significant and worthwhile, and he will be compelled tobroaden out from this point ofdeparture in every direction in order toreach a complete understanding of hissubject. From each and every detail oneis driven to consider the whole; theonly thing that matters is that one go towork in the right way, with strength,intelligence, and avidity. Let one chooseseveral different points of departure,working through from each of them tothe whole, and one will grasp the wholeall the more surely, and comprehend

the wealth of detail all the more fully.Accordingly, by sinking deep into theparticular, one most easily avoids thedanger of becoming narrow.

PASSAGES FOR COMPARISON

FROM THE SYMPOSIUM OFPLATO

[The passage is thus summarized byJowett: 'He who would be trulyinitiated should pass from the concreteto the abstract, from the individual tothe universal, from the universal to theuniverse of truth and beauty.[Footnote: Plato, _Symposium_. _TheDialogues of Plato, translated by

Jowett, New York, Oxford UniversityPress, 1892, 1. 580-582.]]

Diotima.... These are the lesser mysteriesof love, into which even you, Socrates,may enter; to the greater and morehidden ones which are the crown ofthese, and to which, if you pursuethem in a right spirit, they will lead, Iknow not whether you will be able toattain. But I will do my utmost toinform you, and do you follow if youcan. He who would proceed aright inthis matter should begin in youth tovisit beautiful forms; and first, if he beguided by his instructor aright, to loveone such form only out of that heshould create fair thoughts. And soon

he will of himself perceive that thebeauty of one form is akin to thebeauty of another; and then, if beautyof form in general is his pursuit, howfoolish would he be not to recognizethat the beauty in every form is one andthe same! And when he perceives this,he will abate his violent love of theone, which he will despise and deem asmall thing, and will become a lover ofall beautiful forms. In the next stage hewill consider that the beauty of themind is more honorable than thebeauty of the outward form. So that ifa virtuous soul have but a littlecomeliness, he will be content to loveand tend him, and will search out andbring to the birth thoughts which may

improve the young, until he iscompelled to contemplate and see thebeauty of institutions and laws, and tounderstand that the beauty of them allis of one family, and that personalbeauty is a trifle. And after laws andinstitutions he will go on to thesciences, that he may see their beauty,being not, like a servant, in love withthe beauty of one youth or man orinstitution, himself a slave, mean andnarrow- minded, but drawing towardsand contemplating the vast sea ofbeauty, he will create many fair andnoble thoughts and notions inboundless love of wisdom; until onthat shore he grows and waxes strong,and at last the vision is revealed to him

of a single science, which is the scienceof beauty everywhere....

He who has been instructed thus far inthe things of love, and who has learnedto see the beautiful in due order andsuccession, when he comes toward theend will suddenly perceive a nature ofwondrous beauty (and this, Socrates, isthe final cause of all our former toils) anature which in the first place iseverlasting, not growing and decaying,or waxing and waning; secondly, notfair in one point of view and foul inanother, or at one time or in onerelation or at one place fair, at anothertime or in another relation or at anotherplace foul, as if fair to some and foul to

others, or in the likeness of a face orhands or any other part of the bodilyframe, or in any form of speech orknowledge, or existing in any otherbeing, as, for example, in an animal, orin heaven, or in earth, or in any otherplace; but beauty absolute, separate,simple, and everlasting, which withoutdiminution and without increase, orany change, is imparted to the ever-growing and perishing beauties of allother things. He who from theseascending under the influence of truelove, begins to perceive that beauty, isnot far from the end. And the trueorder of going, or being led by another,to the things of love is to begin fromthe beauties of earth, and mount

upwards for the sake of that otherbeauty, using these as steps only, andfrom one going on to two, and fromtwo to all fair forms, and from fairforms to fair practices, and from fairpractices to fair notions, until from fairnotions he arrives at the notion ofabsolute beauty, and at last knows whatthe essence of beauty is.